


I Have Sinned Dear Father, Father I Have Sinned

by EriesSubjugates



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 03:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17459747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EriesSubjugates/pseuds/EriesSubjugates
Summary: In which John Deacon finally decides to work on his frustrations.





	I Have Sinned Dear Father, Father I Have Sinned

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old work I shared to some people. This is mainly inspired by the stage interactions we see them do. Anything incorrectly written is my fault alone. Not beta read.

He can taste it, in the roof of his mouth, the bitter smoky taste of the whisky. It shouldn't bother him, really, drinking is just something he expects rockstars to do. Be one with the cool boys. And he's provided an excuse...he hated socializing, the small talks, nerves brought out by the number of people he have to play to tonight, knocking back a glass of whisky won't hurt. Or so he thought, they're three songs shy towards the end, unfortunately for John, everything felt hot, weird, and uncomfortable. It didn't help that he wore tight clothes tonight.

"Something wrong?" Freddie asks him, casually draping his left arm on him, winking at fans while Roger wows the audience with his drum solo.

"Just tired." John answers, which is the truth. The continuous shows is beginning to take its toll on him. He wants nothing more but to crawl under the bed and sleep. It's a relief, when he remembers that they'd have a week free on their schedule following tonight's show.

Just two more songs.

Freddie didn't leave his side. John takes it in stride, like he always does,focusing instead on playing the bassline for Liar.

It's amazing, John thinks, how Freddie could shift his voice from its sweet siren like quality to something that oozes a barely there anger. It's strong, and for somebody his size, is worth noting. Not that John is confident with the singint jargons the three loves to throw around during soundchecks and recording sessions. It's probably just his bias towards the man that never stopped encouraging him on writing songs, even when he's always met with, "Soon. I promise."

Mmm. Mama I'm gonna be your slave,

As usual, John leans into the mic, to sing "All day long"  
It was going well until Freddie placed his left hand on John's nape, making John's 'long' dip. In his head, John could hear Roger yelling, "Flaaaaat!" But Freddie's hand remained a warm presence on his nape. He played the guitar solo with a bit force on his strumming, but limited his movements in case he hits Freddie. He let the exhilaration of the bass solo wash over him. As soon as he finished the solo, Freddie leaves him to saunter over Brian, which is not only frustrating but also confusing.

One more song. I can do this.

\--  
"For someone your age, you're supposed to be drinking milk still." Freddie teased, taking the glass from him, drinking the content in one gulp. Freddie grimaced.  
"Ugh. Darling, remind me to get you a better one tomorrow "  
"Sure, Fred." John says, holding Freddie's gaze but not long enough in order to track Freddie's tongue as he licked the traces of the cheap whiskey away from his lips.

"Maybe you should teach me."  
"What?"  
"Teach me how to bargain for the good stuff?" John explains, smiling. "Roger may have told me a thing or two." He adds cheekily, leaning into Freddie's space. He enjoys the shudder it elicits Freddie.

There's been a tension between them that they cannot shake. The lingering stares, the touches, secret smiles shared when Brian and Roger are not looking...

So it didn't come as a surprise when Freddie pulls him in for a kiss.

It's also perhaps for the best that he's been leaving the band to disappear for two hours after a gig, a habit of his that he had developed in order to get rid of the uneasiness he feels everytime he plays for a large crowd. And nobody questions him. John would like to think that Freddie is behind it. And it's a nice gesture.

The kiss turned heated than he had hoped for, but didn't mind.

When Freddie pulls back, his lips were slicked with spit, a faint dusting of red on his high cheekbones, his eyeliner smudged.

Oops.

"Not bad." Freddie comments after a beat of just them taking in each other's looks. And it stops John,

"Not bad?" John repeats. Freddie looks at him, giving him the kind of look only reserved to Roger when the drummer is being pissy.

"You're serious about this?"

"I am."

"John... You're not obligated..."

"Please. I'm a grown man." John says slowly, "this has been going on for quite some time. If this won't work, I won't hold it against you. We could still be friends. If anything this would address the itch...well, the issue in the meantime." He looks at Freddie who shrugs in return.

"Practical."

"When was I not?" John says cheekily.

"In front of Brian?"

He must have frowned because Freddie laughed. And it was a sight to behold. Freddie gets a bit shy because of his teeth and seeing him laugh just like that makes John feel warm.

"Darling, you're too easy to rile up."

And he's too warm, and he wants to kiss the older man senseless. Prove him that he means this. Whatever this arrangement. He tips Freddie's head back so he could explore Freddie's mouth with his tongue.

He pins Freddie to the wall with his weight, and uses his right hand to unclasp the button of Freddie's trousers, yanking it down gently.  
John pulls away to look at Freddie,

"Just hands. For now." Freddie says. John nods. Understanding the uncertainty. John palms the hard outline of Freddie's cock curiously. Encouraged by the groan Freddie lets out, John squeezes harder, dragging the heel of his hands up so he could wrap his fingers on the precome-soaked head of Freddie's cock, thumb circling the head through the cotton.

"Can I?" John asks again, enjoying the sensation of Freddie's breath warm against his mouth.

"Yes."

John kisses him.

And it's all a blur from there, overstimulated sensations flooding their bodies. Freddie's hand found its way to his cock, their groans, and chuckles, hushed. Kneading fingers, expert and clumsy, chasing the momentum that the concert provided them both, Freddie praising his efforts, followed by a litany of curses in that beautiful mouth of his, and aahhs that John wished he could bring Freddie to moan louder....the next time, hot in his mind.

Freddie buries his face on John's neck, coming with a soft cry. John's release followed shortly after. He slumps into Freddie, who chuckles, and he was happy when the older man keeps him upright.

"That was," John begins.

"Intense?" Freddie supplies.

"Mmm" John replies, warm, content, satiated...if a bit sleepy.

"Is there a next time?" John asks.

"I got you darling."  
\--  
Brian was pacing, when John spots them. "Where have you been?" Brian, crosses his arms. John wanted nothing more but to sleep for the next ten hours.

"Smoke. Talking about blackholes, the secrets of the universe. We didn't notice the time. Sorry, mum."  
Behind him, Freddie snorts. John smiles. Brian is unfazed. But before Brian could speak, Roger pulls him.

"Brian please. We need to head to the hotel now."  
Brian looks at the drummer who was pouting. How Brian could fall for that farce, is beyond John. Brian relents, but gave John a funny look which honestly John couldn't care less anymore. John catches Roger's eyes, he raises his brow at the drummee, goading Roger to say something, but instead was met with a saucy wink.

"Bloody hell." It's going to be a long weekend.


End file.
